


Movement

by lemoninagin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Breeding, Breeding Kink, Can be interpreted either way as FWB or lovers, Cock Warming, Dirty Talk, Dom Lance (Voltron), Established Relationship, Hair-pulling, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Spanking, and is mostly a brat, they switch roles but keith bottoms the whole time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:41:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25231801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemoninagin/pseuds/lemoninagin
Summary: Lance accompanies Keith on a Blade of Marmora mission and gets a little more out of it than he expected.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 530





	Movement

“I’m glad you came with me, Lance. It’s been a while. We really could use all the help we can get for this relief mission.”

“Yeah, well,” Lance says, hands loosely clutching the controls. “Who would I be if I didn’t take you up on a wager? Not like I’m getting much action at the Garrison lately. Griffin's team takes all the good recon.” He laughs and revs past some orbiting asteroids. “Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t called me sooner. How in the universe have you managed without me?”

Lance sweeps an arm around the cockpit and yeah, Keith has to admit, it’s a bit of a mess. It’s not like Kolivan has given him all that much time lately to even regroup his thoughts, let alone deal with keeping Red tidy. 

He wasn’t quite expecting the company, either. It’s not often Lance volunteers anymore.

It makes him smile to think about how much has changed between them.

With a sigh, Lance tosses his head over the seat, staring at him upside-down with an arched brow. “There’s no easy way to put this, Keith. You need an intervention. I think you’re a hoarder.”

He lifts himself to face forward, shrugging his shoulders like that’s common knowledge.

It’s Keith’s turn to laugh. Standing quietly for the past half hour has made him antsy, so it’s nice to break the silence. Besides, watching the back of Lance’s head as they float through the stars is a well-visited past time of his. It’s—nostalgic. He stares at where Lance has allowed his hair to grow, the strands edging down his neck in an ironically similar manner to his own ‘mullet’.

Keith could make a comment about it if he felt petty enough, but that’s not what he has in mind for today.

He pads across the floor, years of ambush training making it easy to slide right behind Lance without his noticing. Slowly, he trails his hand over the back of the chair, up and up, until he’s brushing that curling hair. 

Leaning in close, he whispers against Lance’s ear, “And I think you should keep your comments to yourself and pay attention to the road.”

There’s a twitchy jump from Lance underneath his fingertips. No doubt Lance would have reacted more strongly in the past to such a touch, but he’s adaptive here, relaxing almost immediately after.

Not quite distracted enough, he shakes his head. “It’s space,” Lance huffs, “If you haven’t noticed, there’s plenty around us. I could steer this baby in my sleep. You worry too much.”

Keith drapes himself over Lance, curling an arm around him in a semi-hug as he noses into his neck. Laughing softly, Lance releases one control to squeeze Keith’s arm. A little hand hug in return.

“Well, aren’t you cuddly. Maybe I should insult you more often for old time’s sake.”

Keith notices Lance’s other hand flexing to re-grip the control. It curls tighter than before. 

He grins.

It wouldn’t be hard to keep talking while pressed together like this. They could keep this up for a while, and it’d be equally as fun. The old banter, the familiar bond of friendship they’ve formed after all this time—it comes as easy as breathing these days. 

The worst of the war is over and they’re in their late twenties. There’s nothing worth scrabbling over anymore unless it leads to this.

But it’s been months since he last saw Lance. Truth be told, Keith doesn’t care to think any longer about anything. 

He’s confident he can get what he wants here, he thinks, grazing his lips over the shell of Lance’s ear. Enough to be felt this time. The fingers which had been worrying the hair at his nape begin pressing into his skin more insistently. 

Lance’s mouth falls open on a soft sigh. He subtly leans into the touch.

Miraculously, he doesn’t say anything. Not a peep as Keith drags his mouth over the hardened line of his jaw below his ear and makes his way down, stubble cutting across his chapped lips. Keith kneads into the muscles of Lance’s shoulders. They’re tense, barely giving way beneath him. 

“Lance,” he drawls his name, each syllable distinct. “It’s been a _while_.”

“Mm, yeah, missed you…” Lance hums contentedly. “Kolivan’s sure stingy with giving out vacation days.” His head slips into the crook of Keith’s shoulder, eyelids fluttering. There’s a small smile hanging on the edge of his lips. “This feels nice…”

Keith massages deeper. Buries his face into his hair, getting lost in the scent. “Too long,” he murmurs, snagging Lance’s earlobe between his teeth.

There’s a beat of tension between them.

“Your thoughts are as dirty as Red, huh?” Lance finally catches on. He cocks his head, lidded eyes flickering over his shoulder. “Whatcha thinkin’ bout, hotshot?”

Keith’s hand becomes firm on his shoulder. He curls his fingers in, bordering on the side of painful. “Oh, just a few things.”

Twisting so that he can peck Keith’s lips, Lance raises his eyebrows curiously. Keith can feel his fingers tracing patterns against the sensitive inside of his wrist. “Care to kiss and tell?”

“How you feel in me.” Keith digs one finger tighter, making intense eye contact. “Those little noises you make when I touch you. And your lips on mine. When you learn to shut them they just taste _so_ much sweeter.”

At that, Lance’s eyes darken. His fingers quit messing around and curl over his wrist, pulling until Keith is forced to follow it. 

Keith doesn’t need any coaxing to crawl into his lap, though. 

They meet again, this time open mouthed. A slow drag that grows heated in a matter of seconds. 

Keith isn’t gentle about it. Rarely is when he gets this impatient. He knows Lance isn’t much for restraint either, but he reigns Keith in by cupping his face, attempting to slow the pace. There’s something cute about how into it he’s getting, how he threads one hand into Keith’s hair like his life depends on it. 

Just as his hips are hitching into Keith’s, Keith pulls away. 

Lance is scowling when Keith opens his eyes. He tongues the bite he made. “Dick,” he mumbles under his breath, shoving him. Face flushed a pretty pink.

As much as it pains him to, Keith draws himself from Lance’s lap. “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” he decides.

“We—” Lance’s voice lowers to a conspiratorial whisper. “Do we have time?” His eyes dart around as if the comms will turn on at any moment. “Should we really do this here?”

Keith is already down to his boxers. “When have you ever cared about that?” he says, slipping them off his hips and tossing them in Lance’s face. He moves the small package he pulled from his suit out of sight in the palm of his hand. “I’m talking to the guy who gave me head on the training deck more than once. Who in between a battle, just had to beg me to eat him out while we hid in that closet— ”

“That was _one_ time!” Lance protests, flinging the boxers away. Both of them watch as it goes flying across the cockpit into some other pile of random clothes. “I’m just saying, if Kolivan calls in the middle of this, you’ll have no right to be embarrassed. This was _your_ idea, _your_ fault. So no complaining if it happens. Okay?”

“Would you just get some form of naked right now? We have to be there soon.”

Despite being slow on the uptake, Lance is easy to rile to the occasion. Especially after so long. That’s one of the many things Keith likes about him.

He doesn’t bother with his top, peeling the bottom half of his suit down as much as he can manage. The extra blade of marmora outfit Keith loaned him is a little tighter than he’s probably used to. It’s definitely odd in places where their paladin suits were not. Lance grunts while he tries to remove the leg braces, hips wriggling in the seat as Keith watches him struggle, amused. 

That must be what gets him to consider they’re not worth figuring out.

“Seriously, Keith.” Lance squirms. He pats his barely exposed lap, not altogether a sexy move considering he’s semi hard and looking ridiculous. “If it happens, the whole blade’s about to look at us way different.” He shoots him a cocky grin. “Are you prepared to have your surrogate family see the mess I’m about to make of you?” 

“Yeah, yeah. It’s my fault, whatever,” Keith snorts. “Kiss me.”

Although it’s a tempting thought to go back to where he was, Keith keeps their bodies at a respectable distance as he leans down to Lance, allowing himself to get lost in the feeling of his lips. They seem softer than he remembers. All of that time on a normal planet’s atmosphere must be doing wonders for his skin. 

Not that Keith has ever had an issue with how they were.

While Lance is distracted, it’s easy to work the hidden package open between his hands. Cool liquid gushes over his fingers when he rips it. With a firm palm to Lance’s chest, he pushes, separating their gravitating bodies. Keith admires the thin string of spit still connecting them before he breaks away, turning himself around.

“Eyes on me, Lance.”

“Yeah, uh—” Lance’s voice cracks as Keith spreads himself open, one elbow propped on the dash. “That’s not gonna be a problem?” 

It doesn't take long. He’s already loose from earlier preparation, fingers squelching obscenely as he slips one finger inside. It’s more for show than anything—Lance’s breathing eventually comes shallow and labored. He whimpers when Keith adds a second finger. 

It’s barely a few seconds into that when Lance caves, his arms looping around his hips. His tone is reverent as he asks, “You _planned_ for this?”

Keith lets himself be maneuvered backwards into the pilot chair. “Don’t judge me. We don’t have a lot of time. This mission turned out to be more involved than expected.”

“I’ll say.”

Lance’s mouth is a welcome heat at his ear and Keith shivers, the feeling of lips brushing against it having him more excited every time Lance speaks. The curves of Lance's body slot against his own, his hard cock pressing between his cheeks. 

It's throbbing. Dripping with precum. Keith runs his fingers along the inseam of Lance's suit, skirting around it.

“You’re always welcome to visit me, you know. Plenty of time to go around on Earth,” Lance says, trailing down to mouth at his neck. Keith sighs as he snakes his arm further behind him, slicking Lance’s length before guiding it carefully inside. 

They both groan as he seats himself, inch by excruciating inch. The pressure is as incremental as Lance’s teeth sinking into his skin. Keith has never been one for relying on others, but he has to admit—the touch of his fingers, of any toy, is nothing in comparison to the thickness of Lance’s cock. He almost loses himself completely to it.

Instead, he reaches for Lance’s chin. “Now, eyes on the road,” he commands, yanking it to the window.

Lance tries to move, but Keith thwarts his attempts, clenching on him and pressing his thigh down. 

“Are you—are you serious?” Lance exclaims, strained. His dick gives a crude twitch inside him. “There’s not even a goddamn road, can I please just—”

“No.” 

There’s a small whimper from Lance. “You’re really gonna torture me like this?”

“If it’s not a necessary communication for our journey, I don’t want to hear it,” Keith says, biting back a smile. “We need to get to these coordinates first so no one comes looking for us. In the meantime, I’ll keep you warm.” He throws Lance a look over his shoulder, eyelashes cast low. “So behave.”

Lance is dragging a hand across his face, breath hot and heavy against the back of Keith’s neck. There’s sweat beading on his brow. Keith can feel it when it drips onto his shoulder.

"You’re the—the worst.”

Continuing to stay still is a test in both of their patience, though Keith likes to think that when it comes to things like this he has the slightest upper hand. They’ve done this before, once. 

Except that time, Lance came before he even got the chance to move.

He’s determined that won’t be the case here as he sits quietly like nothing out of the ordinary is going on. Back straight, eyes on the stars. Occasionally bearing down for the sake of hearing Lance muttering curses.

About ten minutes in, their remaining trajectory is set. “Target planet l-locked,” comes Lance’s shaky voice. “De-Decompressing. Chambers. Preparing for—for slight descent.” 

As he punches in the commands for Red’s autopilot, he’s able to free another hand. The following touch tracing against Keith’s nipple is light, but purposeful. It burns desire into his gut as Lance’s hand slides over his skin, teasing above where his cock is leaking against his belly.

It’s impossible not to react. Keith slumps on him, relaxing his posture. Lance’s chest is warm. Comforting. 

He grinds onto him out of reflex, his body seeming to realize it should actually be doing something about this. The tip of Lance’s cock is brushing an angle shy of his prostate. He can’t help but moan at the feeling, at the pinch Lance makes to his nipple while he sucks what will no doubt be a massive hickey later on his neck. 

Keith lets the pleasure run through him like a current.

“Okay,” he says, breathless. “I’m-I’m going to move.”

“Oh, thank quiznak,” Lance sighs in relief.

“You misunderstood me.” Keith cocks his head, enough that he knows Lance can see the smirk he’s wearing. “ _I_ am going to move. _You_ are going to sit there while I get myself off.”

Fingers curl into Keith’s hips. Lance’s forehead thumps forward, knocking between his shoulder blades. He shudders. Keith feels it through every inch of his spine. 

“Fuck, Keith.”

“Don’t even think about coming. Hands to yourself, too, while you’re at it.” To make his point clear, Keith sets his heels at the edge of the chair, on either side of Lance’s thighs. He grips Lance’s knees to lift himself, back arched, but stalls in dropping. 

It’s a pretty intense, open angle. His legs spread obscenely, ass on full display. Keith supposes Lance must appreciate it by the heavy gasp at his ear.

There’s some scrambling, Lance trying to grasp onto the chair’s armrests. “How am I not supposed to even think—” Keith drops. There’s a loud thunk from the chair, likely Lance’s head hitting it. “Ah, _you bastard, get fucked.”_

“What do you think I’m trying to do here?”

There’s no point in continuing a slow pace. Once he makes that second slide down, he’s fucking himself on Lance’s cock, fast and urgent, overwhelmingly so. 

In no time at all Lance is an absolute mess behind him, shouting loose fragments of sentences, moaning. Struggling not to meet him with a quick, dirty thrust.

Keith allows his feet to fall. The tips of his toes press into the floor and he slips forward, changing the angle so he can come at things a bit less horizontally. He doesn’t bother with reaching for Lance, but he does meet him for a kiss, sloppy and wet as he levers his body by clutching one armrest.

Their hands meet. Keith’s on top of Lance’s. He curls around his wrist and chains it to the chair.

Groaning loudly, Lance’s hips twitch into him, barely managing to graze his prostate. It’s not enough to really get him off or break the rules, but it’s enough to spur Keith on.

“Come on, Keith, come on,” Lance says against his lips. “Come for me, come on my cock like a good boy. You know you want to.”

They lock eyes. Keith can’t stay coordinated enough to make out while also mercilessly riding him, so he settles with watching the lust pool in Lance’s pupils, the scrunch of his nose as he desperately tries to stave off climax before Keith.

It’s always a good image. Lance is pretty with his mouth hanging open on a moan, cheeks flushed, forehead swamped with sweat as spit slides down his chin. Keith laughs at his conflicted expression and Lance’s eyebrows draw together then, determined. 

Following rules was never quite Lance’s thing. When a hand slips around the base of Keith’s length, he isn’t surprised by the rough jerk over it. 

It’s a harrowing blow. Keith can’t quite staunch his sound of surprise, lifting himself before falling in sync with Lance fisting his cock. Fucking into his hand while he sinks down again. It’s not long before he’s hitting his own sweet spot head on, and combined with the hand alternating between stroking his length, rubbing his slit, it’s enough. Keith hastily chases the feeling, mouth fallen open in an echo of a scream. 

Then it’s all over. 

A full body orgasm envelops him. The _vision blanking out, completely thrown to another world for a few long seconds_ kind. When his eyesight pieces together, he’s aware of the warmth of his release streaked over his stomach and chest. He’s absolutely sticky with it.

The burn radiating in his thighs will be the sweetest reminder during the rest of the mission. That is, if his legs ever recover from being weakened, useless noodles. 

Keith doesn’t get much time to bask in his afterglow much more than that as he’s thrown forward, Lance still inside him. A hand wraps around the back of his neck, grinding the side of his face into the control dash.

Snapping his thighs shut, Keith arches, hips raising into Lance’s first thrust. He reaches to spread himself apart for Lance, smirking despite it all. The cock in him throbs, pulses. Lance groans at the sight of his length more clearly sliding into his stretched hole. 

From the corner of his eye, Keith catches the look on his face. Something between pissed and turned on beyond belief. He’s biting his lip when he thrusts with all restraint releasing, nails piercing into Keith’s hips.

“Shit,” Keith whines, head thunking each time Lance pitches him forward. “It’s too much, don’t stop.”

He’s horribly oversensitive, but that’s what makes this fun. Lance has gotten him to the point before where he’s coming dry, and if he rolls back onto him just right he knows he can— 

“Don’t move.” A hard, unforgiving slap lands on his ass. “You’ll take what I give you now, brat. Then afterwards you’ll thank me, whether you cum again or not.”

“I don’t have to thank you for shit,” Keith snarls, Galra fangs releasing to nick his lip. He’s sure his eyes must be glowing yellow by now, his vision turning sharper than before. “You should be thanking _me_ for even letting you touch me in the first place.”

Another warning slap. “Keith—”

“Yeah, you’re welcome, Lance.”

His untouched cock is rubbed cruelly against a lever before Lance pulls his hips towards him, gaining in speed by leveraging them himself. Keith has all but grown slack, simply taking it. 

When he provokes Lance enough to get like this, it feels like the best damn thing in the universe. Sometimes, even better than flying. No amount of time apart could ever change that sentiment.

The hand around his neck moves to grip his hair, unraveling it from the loosely held together braid. It’s an obnoxious move on Lance’s part—Keith worked hard to even get it to stay like that, but that’s not the highlight of his focus for long. His disgruntled whine is cut short by the head of Lance’s cock directly stimulating his prostate. 

It’s a wonder he can breathe, that he can think enough to register that he’s dangerously close to the edge again. 

A faraway haze builds with their fucking, the slap of skin muted under the ringing in Keith’s ears. He briefly wonders if he might get a concussion because he loses track of just how many times his head hits cold metal.

He’s being split in two.

“You want me to cum in you, don’t you?” Lance’s voice is a higher-pitched echo. “You act tough, but it’s obvious.” Finally, Keith’s head is released from concussion purgatory. “I bet you’ve been aching for it all alone out here. Thinking about me when you touch yourself.” Now his hair’s the new anchor as Lance tugs, snapping his chin to the ceiling and forcing it to stay there. 

Lance’s words are a mere hiss of threatening breath as he leans right to his ear. “I’m gonna make you scream.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

“Only if you answer me, Keith. Do you?”

“Deeper,” pants Keith.

“Whatever. It’s not like I care all that much, because I was gonna do it anyway,” laughs Lance. “You’re about to look obscene, kitten. I’ve been saving this all for you. If you had a pussy, I bet I’d knock you up.”

And that’s— 

Keith is immediately mortified. “L- _ance_ ,” punches out of him as he tries to hide his face into the crook of his arm. 

“You’d probably like that at some level, wouldn’t you? Getting banged so hard and filthy you’re filled in an entirely different way.” Another sharp thrust, combined with a tight circling of Lance’s hips. “In a way everyone could see.”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re so gross. That’s not—” Keith loses himself for a moment, gasping. “Not true.” 

“It is. You want everyone to know you’re mine. What better way to do it than that?” 

Lance changes the angle abruptly, deeper than anything Keith’s felt in a while. He cups the bulge that’s barely showing through his distended abdomen, stretched from the length and width of his cock. 

“Your stomach would look just as lewd as it does now.”

It’s—honestly embarrassing. Coupled with what Lance is saying— 

Well, Keith can’t say his ears will ever be a normal shade again as they absolutely burn.

He doesn’t want to think about it, but he is. It’s all approaching too fast for him to stop it. Some weird Galra biological wires crossing, or whatever the reason, his mind and body surely don’t give a fuck. It’s hot. It’s exactly what he needs. 

“Fuck,” he shouts. Nails scraping against the console. 

When he dares to crack open an eye, Lance is grinning. Just grinning and grinning as he steps forward, bringing them pressed tightly together. The divots in Lance’s hip bones smack into his own, the heavy expansion of his chest pushing Keith farther into a sandwiched position. Calloused hands slide over his thighs, sensually dragging along until they reach his hips. They’re jerked high.

Keith can barely get a grip on one jutting control before the pleasure comes raining down all at once. Slower, Lance pulls from him, lips skirting over his shoulder. His cockhead teases at his rim, which flutters uselessly to draw him back in. The warmth of skin covers Keith like a blanket as Lance bends over him, sweat dripping onto his back. 

There’s a moment or two where Keith isn’t sure when it’ll end. How long Lance will stretch this out. His hips wriggle, impatient at the sudden hesitation.

Then Lance slides to the hilt, burying himself deep. Probably imitating what would happen if he were to try and make good on his word to breed him. 

Like a whip, Keith’s back cracks into a fine arch. “Fuck, fuck, don’t pull out—” He moans, long and low. Lance’s free arm wraps around his chest for support, driving in relentlessly again. His smile burns into Keith’s neck when he cums with a drawn out grunt, filling him.

Keith’s vision begins growing hazy, Lance merely a fuzzy blur behind him. All except for his eyes, that is. The dark blue is pinning Keith in place, forcing him to meet his thrusts, setting that hot iron flame coursing through his blood. It races inside him with no clear end. 

The world narrows into feeling. Rising, falling, rising. There’s—his heart pounding in his ears, the heavy weight of Lance’s hands clasped on his hips. Lance whispering something soft, his breath tickling against his neck, but Keith can no longer comprehend sounds. Hot cum is spilling from inside him, trickling down his thighs and he’s so satisfyingly full.

Then everything’s rising, rising, _rising_ — 

His finish is anything but quiet. Overstimulation tends to do that to him. Even Lance winces a little against the jarring echo around Red’s hull, at the last second throwing a palm over Keith’s mouth to silence him. Poorly planned and unnecessary, if Keith’s being honest. There’s not a lot of ways he could talk himself out of this situation if an incoming feed were to suddenly blip on.

Still, it does the trick. It always does.

“Wow,” Lance exclaims after a short pause, panting heavily at his ear. “That was different. I really wasn’t sure that’d do it, you know? Like, partially I was being a dick, but also, I was curious? But you seriously came because I said—”

“We are,” comes Keith’s wracked voice as he pulls out, _"never, ever_ discussing this again. Never. Understand me?”

A light kiss lands on Keith’s forehead. “Oh, hun. There’s no way I’m agreeing to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> I found this in my drafts because I wrote this earlier this year for my friend’s bday and then promptly forgot about it lol 
> 
> kick it with me @ [twitter](https://twitter.com/lemonistics)\[tumblr](https://lemonistics.tumblr.com/)


End file.
